


Extraordinary

by Echo_star



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 20:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16919835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echo_star/pseuds/Echo_star
Summary: An Au where those that are gifted aren't feared. Instead they are revered. Like a celebrity as they are considered rare and prestigious. Specialized/strong/ desired skills are initiated into organizations that acquire them from a young age into contracts for powerful companies. They take them on, train them and provide whatever they need to satisfy them so they retain exclusive use of their gifts.  For some this is the only life they have ever known, others escape the system.





	Extraordinary

**Author's Note:**

> Such an old story i started last year.
> 
> Hope you enjoy

 

Clarice puffed out a breath as she ran as fast as her leather boots and skinny jeans let her.

 

Seeing an alley ahead, she seized the opportunity to avoid the crowd chasing her and dashed down it, looking for any alcove she could duck in to. She wasn’t fussy. A simple open door wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? As the alley passed by in a flash of colour, she slowed till she was moving at a fast walk, searching desperately for anywhere she could hide.

 

Suppressing a shout of victory as she saw an open door ahead, moving quickly she dashed inside and closed the door. Her heart was racing like she had just ran a marathon, loud enough that it blended, almost seamlessly with the pounding of feet from those who were chasing her.

 

How had her simple escape from work, turned into evading the masses? What a story, This is so going into her journal when she got home.

 

Smirking at the thought, she felt her heart calm, so pulled a portal, the motion like playing an accordion in the air. She saw the energy that lead to her apartment, a spacious high rise and stepped through as the portal flickered out behind her.

 

The apartment is furnished but sparse. It looked picture perfect. Too perfect, the kind of perfection that comes from interior designers and furniture that’s made to look sleek, not necessarily comfortable.

 

Sighing, Clarice made her way to the bedroom. It too looked perfect, but at least the bed is comfortable. She flops down on a heap, closing her eyes to try to relax.

 

She should feel safe, but this place... is just that; a place. One of the many she has lived in across the country. Soon she would be somewhere else, her responsibilities to Stanton industry endless. Her job a priority. Though she’s taken care of, as a mutant it seemed normal just wasn’t achievable. As everyone tried to tell her, normal was overrated. But she dreamed of having friends, of being able to walk down the damn street without chased like some kind of rare animal.

 

Still filled with adrenaline and unable to relax, she wanders to the window. Looks out to the sprawling cityscape. The sad thing is, she’s never actually explored the city. The most she’s seen is a few blocks. Her days are spent working, her nights recovering.

 

This has been her life for as long as she could remember; eat, train, work and sleep. Is this what it’s like for everyone else?

 

Before she loses herself too far into her wild thoughts and dreams, she checks her watch letting out a low grumble as she realizes she’s due back at work. Not wanting to sprint in her boots again she flicks open the portal whilst searching for her bag. She takes a deep breath, walking through like she’s meant to be there. By now, this place is practically a second home.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a week later, and today was one of those days she tried to avoid. The days when she didn’t feel like a person; but rather a form of luxury transport. The kind of transport where you had to be filthy rich, most likely by very immoral efforts. She can limit these days, but it’s in her contract. Besides, her distaste for these days is outweighed by her debt to the company.

 

Speaking of which, a group of business men emerge from the office talking amongst themselves, until they spot her. How they look at her….. it makes her feel like a thing. An object. She’d kill (but not really) to be wearing her jeans and jacket but it’s a business day, and for these days she has an image to project. An image of a lady, which is pretty much the opposite of herself. Of tight skirts and high heels. Something pretty for the creepy men to gawk at whilst she expends herself to help them travel.

 

Oh she initially kicked up a fuss, hating the men that leered at her. The hands that went places they were never meant to go, the crude remarks as they offered her money so determined to be able to say they had sex with a mutant. Those are the worst. Then there’s those on the opposite side of the spectrum, who gaze at her like she’s gods freakin gift. Some tech mogul once dropped to their knees to pray at her feet, like way to make her feel like a freak.

 

Clarice watched as the group approached. She can already see several people who look like they will annoy the hell out of her. There’s some familiar faces; those are okay. It’s the unknowns whose eyes rake over her, leeringly or possessively like she’s a rare gem to be owned. THAT she dislikes.

 

Annoyed, she cocks her hip, as her eyes catch a pair that have been giving her a pretty indecent once over. The best way to get through this ordeal is to be removed from the situation. To feign an air of disdain like she is truly above them.

 

A short, lanky guy stepped forward. He didn’t have the distinct arrogance about him like some of the others but he didn’t look particularly friendly either.

 

“Washington DC.” He enunciated slowly like he was talking to a machine.

 

Clarice bit her lip, some smart comment on the top of her tongue before she coolly responded “no problem, one moment please.”

 

This will take several trips and she will be exhausted afterwards. She concentrates and flicks the portal open beside her to one of the closer locations “This will take 4 trips, sorry for the delay.”

 

She hears a few grumbles as they shuffle through, like how easy do they think it is to tear through space to another destination across the country? She’s not a magician.

 

She works quickly and efficiently, each portal draining her a little bit more. As they reach Washington, she clenches her fists, determined to stay on her feet and not show any weakness. The moment the group is gone she collapses into the nearest chair, a pained groan escaping her lips.

 

An employee of Stanton approaches with a glass of water and an apple “Hi Clarice. Are you okay? It looks like that one took more out of you than usual.”

 

Clarice opens her mouth ready to respond when the Girl cuts in and she realizes why she doesn’t like making the trip to DC.

 

“It’s been so long since you were last here. Are you okay? You looked a lot nicer last time. Then again you did just come from Atlanta.”

 

Clarice lets the girl talk and eats her high energy foods. Maybe she’s just antisocial since she doesn’t spend time with other people.

 

She glances outside, the room around her familiar. Stanton is an offshoot of Trask Industries, one of the leading organisations to explore the depths of the x gene, the mutation that gives her the ability of teleportation via portals. This room is like many others in various cities. Each one stays exactly the same, so Clarice can see the location easier.

 

Outside it’s busy, people walking by, cars practically parked on the road. The urge to go look around outside is overwhelming. She’s tired of living life from portal to portal. Even if that means learning to socialise, she’s determined to go out there.

 

Feeling somewhat rejuvenated but definitely not at full capacity, Clarice stands and stretches, before smiling at the still talking Girl “I’m sorry, I need some fresh air. I’m going to take a walk around the block.”

 

The girl freezes mid torrent before spluttering “But your car must be almost here. You have to be at your hotel by 12pm.”

 

Clarice grins whilst walking backwards out the door “Yup, but they can’t leave without me.” She turns quickly rushing out, muttering as she wobbles slightly in the damn heels. Leaving them by the door she laughs gleefully as she runs passed the window, waving to the still stunned Girl inside.

 

She walks slowly through the streets, wandering aimlessly like anyone else. It’s exciting. It’s different.  It’s…. freedom. She’s not walking to get somewhere. There’s no goal or agenda. It just is.

 

There’s people everywhere and not one person stops and stares at her (well there was that one kid, but he doesn’t count since he was tiny).

 

After a while she gets ready to walk back. She would portal but her reserves are still low. It’s not wrong that she’s out here, but it is frowned upon. She’s an investment, one that’s not worth the risk of losing. Or being stolen by someone else.

 

Clarice hums to herself as she walks back. Perhaps she should find time to get out more often. Her focus elsewhere, she startled as she crashes into someone.

 

It’s a man, tall with dark hair and an easy smile.

 

“I’m sorry” Clarice exclaimed reaching down to help him pick up his papers.

 

“That’s alright” he says grinning “I have heard it’s a pretty hazardous corner.”

 

Moving quickly to collect the papers scattering in the wind, Clarice bundles them together before handing them back.

 

“I wasn’t paying attention” she grins sheepishly, slightly flustered. Her experience with strangers hasn’t exactly been the best.

 

As the guy gets a closer look at her he smiles, “My name is Marcos.”

 

“Clarice” she supplied as he paused. She caught a glance of her watch, realizing she doesn’t have any more time. Turning to Marcos she adds “I’m sorry, I have to go. I’m late for an appointment before my flight back to Georgia.” She doesn’t mention that appointment includes being stabbed by various needles and monitored in machines as they track her progress with her recovery and power growth.

 

“Really? I’m from there as well” he muses. She’s about to leave when he reaches a hand out to stop her. His hand is warm. Too warm. Jerking back from the contact she eyes him warily “Here. If your ever near Atlanta drop by our club. Consider this a free pass if you will.”

 

Confused Clarice eyes his outstretched hand. The one that branded her with heat. Gingerly she plucks the card from his hand, before turning and dashing away.

 

She can’t explain it, but that was weird. She’s not an expert at social interactions but that touch was unnatural. He looked normal, but she had a feeling he wasn’t.

 

Moving faster, her light jog becoming a run, she stuffs the card into her back pocket as she runs to make it to the car.


End file.
